


Some Memories Are Best Left Forgotten

by pleasevorejimin



Category: Bleach
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Short One Shot, Urahara/Ichigo - Freeform, Uraichi - Freeform, fight me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4652019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasevorejimin/pseuds/pleasevorejimin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo is having a panic attack because of his memories from the war, Kisuke helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Memories Are Best Left Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this for a while, I've just been so fucking lazy, and honestly? It's probably not even that good, p short too, but it's been on my mind for a really long time and I'm happy it's finally done. Enjoy! 
> 
> ...
> 
> I have a couple naruto/bleach unfinished/finished fics that are sitting around on my computer that I need to bring myself to finish, so there's that.
> 
> Also, I'm v sorry if I don't accurately depict panic attacks!! I tried.

Ichigo lowered his head, resting his forehead down upon the clammy surface of the pillow.

 

Breathe. This is really happening. Breath. Damn it, just _breath_.

 

His right hand clenched tighter around the covers that wrapped haphazardly around his bare lower half, as his left dug deep crescent marks into his upper thigh in a futile attempt to calm him. Pain always did him wonders.

 

_Breath. Breath. Breath._

 

He didn’t realize when he began muttering the words aloud until suddenly, Kisuke was beside him, gently, but forcefully removing his hands that were quickly turning white from the pressure.

 

“Ichigo, _Ichigo_ , look at me,” Kisuke was saying. _KisukeKisukeKisuke._

But the words wouldn’t process through the muddle in his brain, barely penetrating through the haze that covered his vision.

 

 _Blood_. Ulquiorra’s death. His enemy begging to _die_. _Murderer_. Losing his Shinigami powers. Losing his _fullbring_. _Weak_.

 

Images flashed through his mind, too quick to process, but not quick enough to stop the _guilt_ and the paralyzing _fear_ from overwhelming his total being.

 

His breathing turned shallow.

 

He clutched at his head in agony, wishing for it all to just _go_ _away_ – and that’s a selfish thought. He deserves this, he thinks bitterly. For all those people he couldn’t save, for all his friends he couldn’t _protect_.

 

He realizes, vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he might be having a panic attack.

 

He knew what a panic attack was. Had seen many from his time at the clinic while working under his father’s guidance. He’d never had one before, but it was easy to diagnose: rapid heartbeat, difficulty breathing, trembling or shaking, feeling unreal or detached from your surroundings.

 

His eyes begin to clear, focusing on the fact that he’s resting in Kisuke’s lap, legs on either side of his thighs, staring up at him with a blank expression. He also realizes that he’s saying something, mouth opening and closing without sound, gaping like a fish, he thinks – and somehow, the thought is so overwhelmingly _hilarious_. And laughter begins to bubble up from his throat before he can even process anything over the overwhelming roar in his ears.

 

He sees Kisuke’s confused expression through his pounding headache and blurry vision, and somehow – he begins to laugh even harder.

 

That is, until, he realizes that he can’t fucking _breath._

_He doesn’t know when he stopped breathing but all he knows is that he hasn’t taken in a full breath in over 30 seconds and oh god, oh god, oh –_

 

 _–_ And would you look at that, the _hero_ , the goddamned _savior_ is having a fucking _panic attack_ , something that’s so, so _human_ – and isn’t that a disgrace.

 

He tries to focus on his breathing, following Kisuke’s movements as he leads him through the motions of inhaling and exhaling, demonstrating on his own person.

 

It works.

 

Because suddenly, Ichigo takes in one enormous, gasping breath, body singing at the ability to finally breath again and the roar in his ears are gone and he hears the calm voice of his lover speaking to him, rubbing at his back in soothing motions.

 

He buries his head into the crease of Kisuke’s neck and shoulder, embarrassed beyond belief and still trying to get his breathing under control.

 

Kisuke doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have too. He knows all too well what kind of stress the war put on in everyone involved, especially on someone who still had such a fragile psyche, merely a _child_ when he was thrown into this war.

 

But a child no more, after all of the horrors he witnessed - that they _all_ witnessed.

 

Kisuke merely picks Ichigo up, still shaking from his panic attack, but _breathing_ and pulls back the covers to allow room for Ichigo's body on the bed. He stretches his arms out and lets out a yawn before climbing atop the bed and lying down next to Ichigo, simultaneously bringing the covers up with his right hand to cover their bodies.

 

Wrapping a comforting arm around his middle, Kisuke allows Ichigo to curl himself into Kisuke's broad chest. A gentle smile graces his lips as he tips his head down to kiss the boys sweaty forehead and red locks before shutting his eyes and going to sleep.

 


End file.
